The Love Song of Nikki Green
by merlintriss
Summary: I'm pretty sure this has been done before. The idea anyway. Think of it as Kill Bill Vol 3, at least, that's what I'm trying for. Vernita Green's daughter seeks her revenge. Probably with Elle and Gogo. Details inside.
1. Chapter 1

Swordplay had come naturally to her. She supposed that too was natural, considering her parentage. But despite her less than stellar beginnings in the world of organized crime, natural born killers, and professional assassins. It had been nearly two decades since the Bride had declared her war on her disbanded group. It had been almost twenty years since the Deadly Viper Assasination Squad had met its end at the tip of her sword.

Revenge had been her goal then, but once Bill had met his end, Beatrix Kiddo had disappeared off the map. Many people had tried to find her, tried to discover exactly the whereabouts of the most dangerous woman in the world. Several high profile members of the Yakuza had tried to locate the Bride, her specialty skills needed despite her decapitation of a previous member. In a world of venegance, where lives flicker out in days and your longevity is not measured in decades but in years, the Bride had become legend. She had demolished five of the greatest assassins in modern memory, one of them formerly a living legend, and she had done so without losing life or limb. In the words of the American teenager, she was a badass.

It should've ended there. That should've been the end of her roaring rampage of revenge. But just as every war has its casualities, every war has its collateral damage, and not all of them are victims. A victim is someone who lies down and takes it. A victim is someone who doesn't have the backbone to fight back. Nikki Green had once been a victim. That had ended when she was fifteen.

Her mothers death at the hands of the bride had a profound effect on the developing mind of Nikki Bell. Though she hadn't seen the death, merely witnessed the aftermath and her mothers cooling body surrounded by cereal, she had heard the Brides deal. If she still felt sore about hte death, she could seek her revenge. The idea lay dormant in Nikki Bell's head until the day she turned fifteen and they day she found her mothers sword.

In all honesty, she hadn't been looking for the sword. She hadn't even thought the sword existed until she was rifling through her mothers old chest, a battered piece made from cracked leather and tarnished brass. It had the look of something twice its age, but good use can truly wear something in. Nikki Bell had been looking for a token, a trifle that would remind her of her mother, and instead she had found the mystery that was her mother.

Vernita Green. It was a name foreign yet strangely familiar. She couldn't have heard the name before, as her mother was only called Jeannie, but she knew instantly this woman warrior was her mother. In her head, the woman known as Vernita Green gained Amazonian status. She was invincible, she was perfect, infallible in the eyes of a teenage daughter she had never truly known. Vernita Green's only flaw was that she had faced the Bride unprepared. She had taken a break, gotten knocked up, raised a family. Her flaw. Her failure. Her demise.

Nikki's father had grown distant with the unexpected death of his wife and the tattered remains of his daughters stories of broken glass and gunshots. Counselors were no help, as Nikki wasn't suffering through some made up story. Her hell was real. THe death of her mother at the hands of an international assassin were real. Nikki had no connection to the businessman father, and only a memory of her mother. Life, it seemed, had dealt her a cruel hand.

That was, until she found the list of contacts buried at the bottom of the chest, next to a sword she had never seen before. It was beautiful, perfect and without mark, like her mother. The child in her wanted to name it, but knew that naming such a thing would be like possesing it, and no one can truly possess what she held. The adult knew that the sword belonged to her mother, but not the mother she remembered, but the jetset Vernita Green.

The contacts were short, a list of people next to numbers and information. She called the first few, to find out that the numbers or the contacts were dead. She was about to give up, when she saw a woman on the list. Elle Driver. A woman. A woman maybe her mother knew. Someone who could help her seek the venegance that had so long gestated within her.

She picked up the phone and dialed the number.

Hours later she had her answer

R & R 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two--Elle

Elle hadn't died by the hands of Beatrix Kiddo, much to her own dismay. Though she had no real wish to die, she had found herself stranded in the desert, blind and alone. Leave it to the Black Mamba to almost secure her end. Almost being the key word.

She probably wouldn't have survived in her old circles. After all, she was blind and she wasn't one of those tricky Asian masters who can still see without her eyes. Eyeless, the others would circle her like African lions on a wounded gazelle. She hated Africa. To be fair, she hated everything, but at that moment, with a Black Mamba for company, she hated Africa with particular fervor.

Nate had arrived. She could almost spit in disgust. Budd had a terrible sense of humor, and an even worse taste in friends. She could smell the alcohol on him when he arrived, disgusting and fat. But, being the conniving woman that she was, she didn't let that deter her. At that moment, Elle Driver was alone in the world, with the exception of a very drunk and fat redneck. Old Elle would have killed him without a thought. New Elle welcomed him with open arms. And blind eyes.

She had spun a story made up of transparent lies that Nate had drunk like wine. She was Budd's sister, from California, and while she was visiting her brother, a terrible medicine man had come upon the trailer, let loose a rare African snake and gouged out her eyes. Nate blindly accepted all of this, and Elle being the woman that she was, trapped him in her easy web. She needed, at least for a little while, someone to watch her while she recovered. It had been a moment of sheer stupidity that had caused their marriage. And a ridiculous amount of alcohol and the truth behind the statement that love (or at least lust) is blind.

A year after Beatrix Kiddo had left Elle for dead, Arlene Paula Schulz gave birth to a son. Funny how that worked. Tied inexplicably to the fat and drunk Nate, and now raising a son she named Bill, Elle lived the life she would have sneered at years ago. She hated her life, but blind was crippled, and she could not return to her old life as a cripple. She still practiced her swordplay, determined not to fall into Budd's trap if Kiddo decided to confirm her kill, and used Budd's Hanzo sword with practiced skill. She may have hated Pai Mei, but she had still paid attention to the old coots lessons, and she tried to keep up with her kung fu as well. Not as well, perhaps, but she had killed the man before training was complete. She couldnt' be expected to remember everything.

Bill, the new Bill, was everything Elle would have wanted in a son. If she had ever desired offspring. He was apparently strong and handsome, had an interest in martial arts and was rotten scum to anyone not his mother. She would have appreciated him more if his name was followed by Jr. but beggars can't be choosers.

Blind, she taught him all she could remember. Forms, stances, and long forgotten dirty fighting filled her as she raised her son into the world Beatrix Kiddo had fought so hard to keep her daughter away from. Kiddo was a fool. Their was real money, real fame and real fortune in born and bred childhood assasins. Bill called them natural born killers, raised sociopaths and taught to kill before they were taught to love. Elle could deal with the potential emotional baggage later. For eleven years, she raised her son to kill or be killed, to fight the weak and the strong alike, to destroy his opponents with fierce disregard. She had managed all of that well.

Then, she got a call from a friend she thought didn't know of her existence. Elle Driver, to most of the world was dead, replaced by Arlene Paula Shulz, a lonely Texan housewife with a thing for combat. The call was short and simple. A Nikki Bell/Green was trying to locate her. Would she accept the call? Would she put herself back into that world for Vernita's spawn?

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

She picked up the reciever, once white now yellow, and dialed a number she didn't recognize to talk to a girl she had never met. It was time to bring about the death of Beatrix Kiddo.

R & R 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3-Gogo

Despite the popular medias representation, not all head wounds are fatal. Damaging, yes. Completely life changing, yes. Fatal, no. She had failed her mistress O-Ren that day when Beatrix Kiddo came calling, failed her as well as any of the other Crazy 88 had. The difference between her and the Crazy 88 was she was O-Ren's personal bodyguard. She had failed her mistress more terribly than any of the others. It was only the honor instilled in her from her old master that kept Gogo from falling on her sword, only that which saved her from death. It gave her instead a need for revenge.

Gogo had gone from school-girl bodyguard to revenge burdened adult. Not to say that she had spent eleven years wallowing in self-hatred and contempt for one Beatrix Kiddo. No, Gogo Yubari had killed a lot of people after O-Ren died. In search of the Bride, in search of redemption, she didn't know which. She hadn't kept in contact with any of the Crazy 88 that had survived. To her they were all traitors, especially Sofie. They had abandoned their mistress when they could still fight. She, at least, had some excuse.

The blow Beatrix Kiddo had dealt her, deep inside her skull, had been crippling. Though she didn't die, she was left incapacitated. A coma, similar to the one her attacker had suffered, had taken away six months from her. She was taken as a young woman, caught up in the House of Blue Leaves, but nothing but a school-girl. That had been an incorrect assumption.

Six months after the attack she had woken up, weak but not incapacitated. She had survived at the hands of the Black Mamba. Once she woke up, she knew that it was time to wreak havoc among the people who had allowed her attacker to live.

Gogo and her spiked ball had been creating a path of destruction from Japan and across the world for eleven years when Elle Driver contacted her. Gogo had only heard of Elle when O-Ren mentioned her past as a member of the Deadly Vipers. Otherwise, like any good assasin, Elle had remained under the radar.

Elle had a habit of talking like an old school action hero, and Gogo didn't talk much at all, so the conversation was pretty straight forward. Nikki Green had contacted the now blind assasin, and she wanted to know if the rumors she had heard about the School Girl Assasin were true-that she had it out for the MIA Beatrix Kiddo. Gogo replied in the affirmative.

"Twice that girl has risen from the dead, and twice her death was in my hands. I failed both times, but this time, with the assistance of our young friend, I think we may have a chance to kill the Black Mamba," Elle's voice was dry and old, wrinkled with contempt and unsettled scores. They arranged the location for Gogo to rendevous. Normally, she wouldn't be involved in something as risky as traveling to another country and meeting an unknown party, but this was different. This was a blood oath she swore on the grave of O-Ren that she would take Beatrix Kiddo to the grave. Gogo had failed her mistress once before. She wasn't going to do it again.

The rendevous location was a broken down gas station in New Mexico. The driving, even if it was in a rental sports car, wasn't something she appreciated. Toyko didn't afford her much time for recreational driving. She sped along the highway with speeds considered unsafe, her long black hair flowing behind her. A few years after O-Ren's death, she had ditched the school-girl uniform she was none and named for, instead choosing dark jeans and a form fitting t-shirt. It was dark, not likely to bring attention to her in any situation, though at home among her brightly dressed peers she did seem a little drab.

Elle said that she and Green's child would be there, ready to greet the young Japanese woman. Gogo had her face ready for a friendly meeting and her weaponry prepared for attack. 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4-

I believe in revenge in the way that some people believe in God. Its far more satisfying than church, more fufilling than any charity, and has blood to rival the Inquisition. Revenge is religion. It is all consuming, and devotees must bow beore an altar of blood to receieve their wishes.

I hadn't really thought about Bill in a while. Looking at B.B. it was kind of hard not to think of the man so instrumental in her creation, but years had passed and memories of him had faded to the bittersweet longing one feels for their one love. I loved Bill, I truly did, but he had done my wrong, and in the ways of the world I was raised in, I had paid him back. In blood.

The world of The Deadly Viper Assasination Squad, of Bill and O-Ren and all the others that died around them, hadn't completely left me behind. Disappearing from the Yakuza and people with less business-like propositions had been hard, but in the end, I had erased all traces of my identity without fear of being found. I severed all ties to the world I had known, kept my sword locked away in fear that merely touching it would remind me of the joy I felt killing the Crazy 88.

I was, by no means, a suburban soccer mom, living it up with casseroles and mini vans. The Bell life was not one that I wished for.

Ah. The Bells.

I hadn't forgotten my deal to the young child of Copperhead, I rememebered my words clearly as if I had said them to her a few hours ago. In my retirement I hadn't grown old and fat, rather ready. I had lived long years with B.B., who herself was under the tutelage of very fine martial arts instructors, and I was not going to give them away to a young woman on a journey of revenge.

A jihad, a holy war, in the religion of revenge, is a god-like tear of destruction. Shermans march could have done no less damage than a woman scorned. If retribution was what Nikki Bell wanted, then retribution was something she could recieve. When she pried my cold dead hands off my Hattori Hanzo sword.

Beatrix Kiddo wasn't going down without a fight. A good, long, hard fight. If Nikki Bell wanted her revenge. She was going to have to kill the best. 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5-Rendevous

The old gas station that was serving as their rally point was rather non-descript. It was ancient, laced in grime and rust and without much character. It would've seemed at home on a Mad Max movie set, nestled in the slowly encroaching desert. The sign had broken down, and pieces of thick plastic hung limply from rusted metal settings.

Gogo arrived first, stepping out of the obnoxious cherry red convertible that had seemed like such a good idea at the airport. She was a preferred customer for the rental company, and this was one of the four top options they had. The teenage girl in her stirred at the sight of gleaming chrome and leather seats. Now, deep in the New Mexico desert leaning against the side of the car, she felt a little foolish.

A dust cloud approached from the distance, obscuring the vehicle that approached her location. Though Gogo appeared at ease, every muscle in her body was prepared for battle. All the lithe sinew and tension was wound tightly and obscured beneath a light cool.

The car pulled up, a beat up Cadillac. Three people stepped out, immediately putting Gogo on guard. Elle had said two. For a moment she was scared, and then she thought back to the circumstances she knew. Elle was blind. The girl was probably fifteen, too young to drive. Still she was confused. The young man who stepped out looked even younger.

"Sorry Gogo, forgot to mention my chauffeur," the Japanese assasin could almost hear the laughter in the older womans voice, "meet my son, Bill."

"What is he, nine?"

"Eleven, actually."

"You had an eleven year old drive you across the desert?"

"Concerned about legality Gogo? I didn't expect that from you," Elle, with big black sunglasses obscuring her eyes, motioned in roughly the direction of the younger black girl, "Gogo, meet Nikki Green."

Gogo nodded, silently appraising the youth. She was young, but older than when Gogo or her mistress had gotten started in the business. She had her long black hair pulled into a tight ponytail near the top of her head. Probably thought it made her look older. The only thing Gogo had to go on was an old picture O-Ren kept for when she felt a little nostalgic, a picture of the assorted member of the Deadly Viper Assasination Squad, all together. Vernita Green was the teams solle African American, and from memory, Gogo could tell that her daughter had many of her features.

"I've heard a lot about you," the girls voice was unsure, not good for starters.

"I certainly hope not," Gogo cocked an eyebrow.

"Well...not from the news or anything like that, mostly just from Elle, y'know, when she used to work with Bill. Bill senior, the deceased, Snake Charmer, whatever. Elle says that you're on a mission of revenge, against the Black Mamba," Nikki licked her suddenly dry lips, and then continued, "So am I."

"Really?" Gogo shifted her attention to Elle, "A little green, wouldn't you say, Elle?"

"She's a little rough around the edges. But I think she has potential."

"Why should i help you?"

"Because you want to. You wouldn't have travelled halfway around the world to say no Gogo."

"I could've come all this way to kill you."

Gogo all but smiled at the young boys reaction to protect his mother. It wouldn't be obvious to someone untrained, but he tensed and his hand went to what she was sure was a pocket knife. It was funny that this eleven year old boy with probably the basics in fighting would consider fighting her for a thinly veiled threat.

"If you wanted me dead, you would've killed me before I got out of the car. I'm an old women with two kids for body guards. If you really wanted me dead, Gogo, you wouldn't have even had to break a sweat," Elle smiled, "You want to follow me or ride along?"

"I'll drive," Gogo watched as the three rag-tag would-be assasins made their way to the car and got in. Gogo hopped into her ridiculous sports car and followed. She may want to try her hand at killing Beatrix Kiddo by herself, but the Bride had proved herself to be a elusive target. It wouldn't hurt to have some help in this journey of venegeance.

R & R 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6-Meeting Places

Naturally, Nikki was terrified.

Though she tried to play it cool, tried to appear older in her own way, she knew deep down that in this realm she was outclassed. Back home she had been a good student, a solid pupil and a fairly decent soccer player. Here, none of that mattered. Nothing mattered except sheer determination and skill.

The only person she met who seemed remotely like her was Nate, and she was loath to admit any similarities between her and the strip club bouncer. What would her mother say if she saw her sitting in this trailer living room across from a drunk, a child, a blind woman and a Japanese assasin? Knowing what she now knew about her mother, it probably wouldn't be a shock.

Gogo was more terrifying than Elle. At least with Elle she had youth and sight on her, but Gogo was born and bred to kill. Child like paranoia told her as much. Nikki knew that if she desired to, the one time school-girl could easily dispatch her. She hoped it wouldn't come to that.

What had brought her to this point? Did she honestly think she could hold her own against the woman who killed her mother? Her, with no training and an old sword?

"What do you know?" Gogo's voice wasn't as accented as she would imagine, and the tone was rich and lilting.

"Umm...about what?" Nikki hated how much of a child she seemed before these women and nervously petted her pony-tail.

"About killing. About maiming. Any of that."

"My dad had me in karate when I was younger."

"Great, she may know how to defend herself against your son," Gogo spoke this time to Elle, who smiled derisively. God Nikki felt outclassed. "Have you ever handled a sword? A gun? A bow?"

Nikki tried to hide the cut on her hand from when she tried to put the sword back in its sheath. In the attempt, trying to resheath the sword suavely she had only managed to slice the webbing between her finger and thumb.

"I can shoot a bow a little." Her father had felt that archery was somehow ladylike and when she was older, in order to distract her from her mothers death, he enrolled her in horseriding and archery.

"How well?" How do you quanitfy a skill like that? She didn't know.

"I can shoot a target off a horse at 50 yards."

"Well at least you can do something. Compound or cross bow?"

"Compound."

"How long have you been here?"

"With Elle? In New Mexico? About a week."

"Have you learned anything?"

"Bill sleeps with a knife under his pillow and Nate gets home at about three in the morning." Bill shot up at this, his hand instinctively going for the knife he had in his pocket.Elle just smiled, her dark glasses obscuring the rest of her face and making her look like some form of maniacal Ray Charles.

"Decent recon. I meant skills, but I assume Elle was waiting until she was sure she wouldn't stab you on accident." Elle lost her smile.

"I'll have you know I taught my son," she gestured at Bill, who was fiddlling with his pocket distractedly.

"I figured. I'll see that he properly knows his forms tomorrow. Since you can't see him, I doubt he's completely trained," Gogo didn't bother to placate the older woman, and this unnerved Nikki. Nikki was terrified of Elle, and if Gogo wasn't, that made her even more scared of the Japanese woman.

Gogo rose, and despite her fear, Nikki couldn't help but admire her future tutors lethal grace. Every muscle was poised to kill, yet somehow beautiful.

"I'm getting a motel in town. I'll see you tomorrow at 5 sharp," she gestured at the passed out Nate, "Will I be correct in assuming you can keep him out of my hair?"

"When he's not drunk he's at work." Elle's face was sharp and brutal. The almost playful ribbing of Nikki was over, and it was time to get to business.

"Good. I'll help you teach both of them. Its better if the girl has a sparring partner anyway."

Gogo left in a cloud of dust, sports car disappearing into the distance. Nikki went back to the closet like room Elle had cleared out for her, telling Nate that the young woman was a daughter of an old friend who came out West for college. Nate was too stupid to realize that Nikki was only 15, and didn't argue about losing the storage room.

As she was walking, she was suddenly thrown against the wall, the smaller but more muscular form of Bill holding her against the thin board, his knife to her throat.

"God...Bill...what are you doing?"

"I should slit you ear to ear..." his voice was a whisper, like talking was an afterthought, "How'd you know about that knife?"

"Your mom had me put down new sheets...I swear I didn't go searching or anything...I just found it," Nikki tried to press herself further against the wall, as far as she could get away from the little lethality that was Bill's knife.

"You stay out of my room..okay? Don't you ever go in the there again or I'll make sure to really make you bleed," with that, Bill withdrew, going to his own room and slamming the thin door before turning his terrible music up louder than it needed to be. Nikki sank to the floor, holding her hand to her throat only to find something wet there. When she pulled her hand away, she saw red and started to cry. Oh god, what was she doing here?


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7—Training Day

Gogo Yubari was a morning person. Back in Tokyo, she would rise with the sun and watch it slowly light up the smooth planes of the Japanese sky line, breathe in the subtle hint of engine oil in the city air. Her apartment, carefully hidden from those who paid her, was equipped with a small gym and acrobatics equipment. Gymnastics was one of the best ways to train, she had found—using her bodies own weight to train itself, and it kept her lithe and lethal.

But she hadn't been in Tokyo for awhile now, and the New Mexico sky was still dark outside her hotel room.

She made herself some tea using the coffee pot, curling her nose at the taste of old coffee in the water. She combed out her long hair and braided it tightly so that it circled itself into a bun. She left nothing in the room for the maid to rifle through, and started the car to drive to Elle's home. If the little black girl was serious, she had better be ready and waiting on the porch. Elle would probably want her to go easy on the girl, after all, she was green and unprepared. But by Nikki Green's age, O-Ren had already assasinated her parents killer, and Gogo herself was a well paid assassin. If Nikki Green had any hope of success, she had better be on board quickly. Gogo wouldn't hesitate to bury a girl in the middle of the desert. She had done it before.

When she had reached the trailer, miles from any other signs of life, the girl and Elle's kid were already out in the lawn. Elle was resting in a lawn chair with a beer, her sunglasses tight to her leathered face.

"It's a little early to be drinking, don't you think, Elle?" Gogo gracefully pulled a duffle from the back of her convertible, slinging it over her shoulder.

"Still late, as far as I can tell." Elle's smile was predatory.

"I suppose it's best that I'm not training you then." Gogo dropped to a squat and began to sort out her training materials.

"I beat your master, Gogo. I don't' need your training, girl." Elle laid back in the chair more, face turning towards the approaching sun.

"Girls grow up, Elle. And you're nothing but a blind woman, now." Gogo dismissed Elle, moving towards the children. "Kid, let me see what you're made of." She spoke to the son. Vernita Green's spawn was four years older and almost six inches taller, but he had been raised by a bitter assassin. Nikki Green had not.

Bill pulled out his pocket knife, and began circling Nikki, whose first reaction was panic. She hadn't thought to bring a knife out, let alone her mothers sword, and had now found herself defenseless. Bill dropped her without even having to put the knife to her. He smirked. He knew she was afraid, and he used it to his advantage.

"Girl, if you are going to fear everything, then I have nothing I can teach you." Gogo yawned. "You are a child in a den of vipers." She sized up Nikki. "You and I are about the same size. Watch what I do." She looked to Bill. "Come at me."

The boy had been waiting to strike at the Japanese assassin since she had insulted his mother earlier. He lunged, but she was faster then he expected, merely stepping to the side, grabbing his arm and bringing it behind his back like a fever, pushing the boy into the ground.

"His disadvantage is that he is small, that he is eager. He wishes to hurt me, so he cannot make the strike."

Nikki watched, though she was unsure how she could ever manage such a move as gracefully as Gogo had done it. Gogo was 120 pounds of pure feline grace, a killing machine, born and bed. She moved like water, she moved like liquid steel. Nikki had never thought of herself as graceful, had never imagined herself fighting a child in a desert battle field.

But this was what she wanted. Revenge was in her blood. She steeled herself.

She crouched, ready to defend against Bill, ready this time, though still afraid.

"Again." Gogo's voice was a whip in the morning light. Bill pounced.

R&R


End file.
